


Things Left Unspoken

by aihuni



Series: Things Left Unspoken [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, dedicated to my followers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:46:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aihuni/pseuds/aihuni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He swallows the hard lump in his throat as he presses his flushed face against the now soggy pillow, exposed to too much tears and snot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marukaprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=marukaprompts).



> A short little fanfic dedicated to my followers. This is how I would feel without you.  
> (unbeta'd and art by 色々つめ)

 

 

 

 

 

 

              

 

The cafe is warm and bustling with orders being made and people chattering amongst themselves in bright cheer. They sit in the back, next to one of the large windows that look out to the glistening ocean. Makoto has ordered a cup coffee and Haru a glass of water, nothing different from the usual, except today is completely different from any other day, remarkably so because Haru actually seems to be struggling with his words. His fingers clench and unclench as his brows furrow the slightest bit.

 

"Makoto," he says and then abruptly pauses for a moment to look out the window, biting at his bottom lip in rarely seen nervous contemplation. Makoto looks down at his steaming cup of coffee and smiles softly. He knows what's coming.

 

"Makoto I-"

 

"I know," he interrupts gently, "you want to break up right?"

 

Haru doesn't say anything. Makoto takes a small breath, gripping the mug tighter, trying to keep the smile intact as he blinks back the tears, feeling like his throat has been clogged with pins and needles. He wonders, or rather questions himself, questions their relationship, and whether or not all those happy memories they've had together had been nothing but a faint glimmer of his imagination. His breath hitches. _Or had it never been enough?_   The implications of that is daunting, even more so than the thick silence that has settled around them now, wrapping them up in a tight blanket.

 

"I think that it's for the best..." he says simply - _of course_ \- almost trailing off as his voice gets softer, seemingly undecided on how to finish his sentence as he still refuses to look at Makoto.

 

Makoto closes his eyes for a second and then lets out a small lingering exhale, and somehow _-somehow-_ he manages to compose himself enough to go on. "Okay," he says, voice rasping with reluctance. "O-okay."

 

And he's a bit stupid for this, but Makoto waits a bit longer hoping to hear the _'I'm just joking'._ He waits for the other to nudge him with his hand and give him a heartrending smile to steady his racing heart, but...

 

It never comes.

 

There's just the inaudible crack of his heart falling apart as Haru coughs awkwardly, bowing his head. His cheeks burn brightly with embarrassment.

 

 

He can _leave._

 

 

Makoto ducks his head.

 

"I h-have to go," he whispers and Haru suddenly starts. His head slightly jerks as he opens his mouth to say something more _(what could he possibly say?)_ but Makoto shakes his head and excuses himself, laying down some money on the table before leaving in a clumsy shuffle, hands fumbling with the chair. He's not going to smile and pretend it's alright. Because really, it's everything but.

 

And then he's out the door and out of sight.

 

 

_They're over._

He wanders around on auto-pilot in a dumb daze, wondering if the emptiness in his heart is real.

 

_No more scary movie nights together where he clings onto Haru and Haru smiles softly, adjusting to the heavy weight on his back.  
_

And he walks.

 

_No more late night kisses or the faint smell of salt and chlorine on his pillow.  
_

 

And walks.

 

 

_No more side glances or the feel of delicate hands running through his hair, untangling knots here and there._

 

 

_No more Haru to hold. No more Haru to feed him mackerel._

 

  

And he walks until he nears his house and misses the usual pothole in the road. In the exact moment when his hands scrape against the pavement and his knees hard on concrete everything is thrown into perspective.

 

_Done. Gone. There's nothing left._

His breath hitches and the tears gather, and while he tries to calm himself with huge gulps of air the harder he tries to regulate his breathing.

 

_No more 'I love you's and warm hands.  
_

_No more Haru.  
_

 

"W-why?" He whispers softly.

 

 

 

 

 

**XXX**

 

One of his lesser known aunts unfortunately gets into a car accident. He feels a pang of sorrow instantly, but when his mom decides to book a trip to the city for a week to visit her family he lingers back. He doesn't feel good enough to travel or to mourn the death of anyone at this point, and though he does feel a bit of guilt eat him up he can't risk it. So without much effort he pretends to be sick. Of course his parents worry and titter, but he excuses himself with such calming grace that they tentatively overlook the heartache gleaming from his eyes and send him off to bed as they pack their things. He tries not to feel too guilty at the concerned second thrown glances.

 

He then sends the swim team all the same excuse: ' _sick and contagious, don't come by, be back in a few days'_ , before shutting his phone off and throwing it across the room as he stumbles into bed.

  

 

 

 

**XXX**

 

He can literally smell the stench coming from his clothes and his dank breath. It's been maybe two days, _maybe five_ , since he's left his bed with a few breaks to the bathroom in between. He's been too tired to move or discard the mounds of blankets he's burrowed under. His eyelids feel heavy, his body too hot and sluggish, and his limbs weary and sore.

 

His thoughts drift back to a conversation he overhead a few weeks ago at the grocery store when he went shopping with his mom. ' _Perfect boyfriend material_ ' two middle-aged women huddled in an aisle alongside him had whispered to themselves. He mentally snorts at that. If what they had said was true he wonders how come he and Haru broke up? How come the other distanced himself?

 

 _'No one wants you~'_ a voice beings to ring softly in his head.

 

How come no one wants to be at his side forever?

 

He holds his breath and then lets it out in a coughing fit making his vision blur and head spin. How come no one wants to kiss him or lace their fingers through his for days on end he thinks. So much potential they say, but it's so funny he thinks, a long sad smile breaching his lips, widening until the dry cracks in his lips tear and he tastes something metallic. He's 'perfect' but even then Haru had left him.

 

_'No one wants you~'_

Maybe that's why Haru left him. No one wants a Makoto Tachibana.

No one wants his heat on cold chilly days or his slightly charred mackerel for dinner; not his nightmares at three o'clock in the morning or his fears in broad daylight. Not his split popsicle or his sticky blueberry kisses afterwards. Not his subtle passion nor his wishy washy mind. He swallows the hard lump in his throat as he presses his flushed face against the now soggy pillow, exposed to too much tears and snot. And definitely not his aching fragile heart he thinks as he curls his body in a fetal position.

 

_'No one wants you~'_

 

A choked sound escapes him again as fat tears roll down his face. ' _No one wants a Makoto Tachibana_ ,' the voice now begins to chant loudly in his head like a broken record. _'No one wants a Makoto Tachibana. No one wants a Makoto Tachibanaaa. No one wants--'_

"-- **me** ," he croaks.


	2. Chapter 2

GO READ THE SEQUEL!


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